


Every Little Thing

by ABookAndACoffee



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mating Bond, Post-ACOMAF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 00:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11771319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABookAndACoffee/pseuds/ABookAndACoffee
Summary: Cassian and Nesta have trouble adjusting to her new powers and his new suspicion that they are mates. Takes place while Feyre is still in the Spring Court in ACOWAR."She was mere days away from being Made - from the unwilling termination of her human life, in exchange for something not quite equivalent. Her new muscles made wearing her old dresses impossible. Her movements were slowed, clumsy; she had no idea how to control this much power. She resorted to leggings and a tunic, if only momentarily. If only because the oaf with the red siphons insisted on training her and Elain, for an hour a day, at least. Nesta would willingly submit to this new timetable of training and work and research and strategizing, if it meant that she had time to plot, to find a way to get out of here. With Elain in tow."





	Every Little Thing

Cassian came to find Nesta, and he should have known to expect her in this state. 

She was mere days away from being Made - from the unwilling termination of her human life, in exchange for something not quite equivalent. Her new muscles made wearing her old dresses impossible. Her movements were slowed, clumsy; she had no idea how to control this much power. She resorted to leggings and a tunic, if only momentarily. If only because the oaf with the red siphons insisted on training her and Elain, for an hour a day, at least. Nesta would willingly submit to this new timetable of training and work and research and strategizing, if it meant that she had time to plot, to find a way to get out of here. With Elain in tow. 

And Elain. 

Elain had become a shadow, looking at the surface of her own skin as if trying to pierce through it, to understand what was underneath. Nesta imagined that she searched for the truth: there was plenty of blame to go around and she imagined that her broken sister looked to see if anyone had recognized this potential outcome, if Feyre, or one of the other powered women there, had known enough to stop what would happen to them. 

Nesta had no idea what Elain actually searched for. She’d never had an idea that she or Elain would experience possibility of existing in this realm. She liked to think of herself as hardened and savvy, but she had never known the lengths to which others would protect themselves and their own interests. Surely, she thought, no one would hurt Elain, as soon as they looked on her face and saw kindness there. It would be an impossibility, for someone to look at the goodwill Elain brought her neighbor, and retain faith in the ideas of war, conquest. 

Of course, Nesta had turned out to be terribly, heart-achingly naive, and they had paid the price. If she could have, Nesta would have paid for both of them. 

When Nesta had been unable to stop Elain from being thrown into the Cauldron, her new mission became one of vigilance. Guardianship. There was no potential for anyone to get near her sister again. Not with her new powers, untrained and undisciplined as they were. Moving forward, all she could do was defend the last bits of privacy and control they had left. 

Nesta stood, stance wide and arms crossed, when she heard Cassian approaching the drawing room days later. Feyre was gone, leaving her alone to defend their sister, and she could only assume it was to further the cause of the man she had fallen in love with. Now that she had clearly decided to return the sentiment. 

Cassian entered without knocking. 

“What do you want?” Nesta barked, sure of her ability to keep this muscled idiot from her sister. Elain sat in a corner, counting the flowers on the wallpaper. She would come out of this. Nesta was sure of it, and acted accordingly. She barred Cassian’s way to Elain, though he made no moves to go nearer. She had the sense that he would never hurt Elain, but there was also no harm in letting him know exactly how far she would go to protect her. 

He held his hands up and stopped walked, keeping himself from coming closer to her and allowing Nesta to remain in between him and Elain. Cassian had no idea what Nesta was capable of, after the Cauldron. Of course, neither did she. But he didn’t need to be made aware of that fact. Not quite yet, at least. 

“I’m only here to check on you,” he said in response. Nesta had the sense that he was pretending to be unafraid, although she knew he was keenly ignorant of the power that the Cauldron had blessed her with. 

She held up her arms, unsure if physical movement was necessary to activate the magic she now felt pulsing through her at all hours. Either way, the sight of her preparations to defend herself and Elain against him was enough. 

Cassian mimicked her movements, raising his hands in a clear sign of surrender. Nesta sat, back almost unnaturally rigid, gesturing for Cassian to take the seat across from her. 

In the time that had passed before the Cauldron, she had tried to learn as much as Feyre, about the fae, even as she had hidden her fascination with them. It would hardly do to make her curiosity seem like the result of this one’s attractiveness. For any of them to think something had passed between them at the manor. 

“You’re checking on us.” she echoed. “Why? So we can be used? Against this King of Hybern?” Nesta responded, her mind working to find whatever advantage she could. 

Cassian sat back in his chair, allowing his posture to relax. He could be so annoyingly confident in himself. 

“Of course not.” He sounded almost offended, and Nesta reminded herself of the deceptive ways of the fae. Myth or not, she wouldn’t take the chance. 

“I just wanted to see if you need anything. If I could be of some kind of service,” he continued. Cassian held his hands out before him, palms up, complete in his surrender to her. 

Nesta felt her focus split between Elain behind her and Cassian in front of her. “I don’t think there is anything you could do for us. You can train me. That’s your job, right?” He nodded in agreement. “Other than that, I don’t see what you might have to offer me. Or Elain. Either of us, I mean.” 

When he spoke next, she felt her attention on Elain fall away completely, leaving her aware of only him. 

“Nesta, I wanted to say-“ he hesitated, looking at Elain over her shoulder. When she stiffened, he looked away, focusing on her face. “I wanted to ask if you felt something. When you were turned. Made. Something that connected us.” 

She knew exactly what he referred to, and had tried to ignore its presence since coming out of the Cauldron. The sense that she was bound to Cassian, that she might end up loving him despite herself, even. That wasn’t how the mating bond worked, but she still felt the suspicion creep into her thoughts at night. She would lie in bed, her mind filled with Cassian, his shape, the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth when he grinned at her, imagined tracing his eyebrows, cheekbones, with the pad of her thumbs. 

She stood and he jumped up, on guard. “What are you asking, Cassian?” 

Cassian crossed his arms. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” 

Nesta’s eyes narrowed as she tried to shut him out, tried to refocus on Elain behind her. The soft, singsong voice had not ceased when Cassian walked in, but Nesta had the sense that she was taking far more from this conversation than either of them were. The eerie feeling that Elain understood far more than her had persisted since the Cauldron, but her refusal to share that information had tested Nesta’s patience. Now, she ignored the lyrics of the song that Elain sang low, the tale of love lost, a warning sung to them as children. 

Nesta pushed Cassian away, towards the door, the lack of effort hardly mattering when her new strength made up for any deficiencies in intent. He fell backwards, neither of them expecting what she might be capable of. Nesta pressed her palms together, as if to nullify any negative they may have had. As if she could stifle what she had taken from the dark, what threatened daily to turn her motives to destructive ends. 

She had not expected him to allow her to lay her hands on him so freely. He should have been on guard. Nesta wondered how he could possibly protect anyone, if he were willing to let even her take advantage like this. 

Cassian stood, straightening his clothing. “We will find out more. About what happened to you there.” 

Of course he wouldn’t take insult. Of course he would be annoyingly patient with her, though she had laid her hands on him and nearly caused him harm. Nesta crossed her arms, feeling the surge of power diminish from her palms. 

“Don’t you want me to stay? To find out what this is?” Cassian reached up, a fist held to his breastbone as if it could tell them something of the truth. Something of what they should do with this desire, need, compulsion. 

But if it was a compulsion, Nesta didn’t want it. There were fewer things she hated more than lack of choice, and in Cassian, and this mating bond, she saw no other options. 

“Maybe you’re too busy,” she answered. 

Cassian looked up at her. “What do you mean?” 

“Maybe you are so busy saving others because you don’t want to remember the fact that you need to be saved every bit as much as these victims you champion.” Nesta had more to say, but she kept it inside. For now. 

He nodded. “Maybe you’re right. But what would you know about that, Nesta Archeron? What would you know about me? About my past or what I need?” He took a step towards her. 

Nesta held her ground. The hints that Elain had left along the way during the last few days, about Cassian, had slowly coalesced into something that looked like a childhood they might have known something about. That is, before the fae glamour had erased any hint of their own struggle, of their father sitting by the fire, whittling those useless, cheap figures. But Nesta remembered. She knew struggle, and now, thanks to her odd babbling, Nesta guessed that Elain remembered as well. 

But that didn’t mean she had anything in common with this warrior. Nothing that might bring them closer, despite growing up in different worlds, at different times. 

Cassian took another step. He reached up and took one of her hands in his own, held it to his chest. “I’m sure you feel it. But I will forget about it. If that is what you wish.” Despite herself, Nesta spread her fingers, feeling the elevated pounding of his heart, the heat coming from beneath the fabric. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She pulled her hand away from him. Nesta feared that a crack, the slightest waver in her countenance would reveal the lie. She saw something in his eye, watched him recognize many realities at once; that she did feel it, that it was too much for her, that she was going to make Elain her priority over anyone else. Bond or no bond. 

Cassian took a step away, clasping his hands behind his back. “Of course. Will I see you soon?” 

“Tomorrow. I’ll be down tomorrow, and you can try to train me. Again.” Nesta sat back down and opened a book, considering the matter settled. 

“You are stronger than you know, Nesta. Even if you pretend to be made of iron. I know you are made of stronger stuff. And I just like proving you wrong.” He tapped his fingers on the frame of the door, waiting for a response that wouldn’t come. 

Cassian close the door quietly behind him, and his last look into the room was not at Nesta, but at Elain. Her fingers still traced the wallpaper, but her attention was no longer there. Nesta could have sworn a conspiratorial nod passed between them as he closed the door, but she focused on her book. 

“He knows,” Elain said. It was the first complete sentence she had constructed all day, and Nesta turned to look at her, not daring to interrupt. “He knows that you are connected, but he won’t push. No. Never. Do not worry for that, sister.” Elain turned away and placed her hands on the walls, resuming her counting. 

Nesta allowed herself to fall back into her chair, abandoning her stiff posture, trying to decide which of the new changes in her life were in need of the most attention. As usual, Elain won out, and so she stood and gently guided her sister to the dining room, her care of Elain taking the place of care for herself. 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: I just like proving you wrong. Posted separately from my other prompts because it got a bit longer?
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://abookandacoffee.tumblr.com/), comments appreciated!


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